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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27031636">love me while your wrists are bound</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/alsjeblieft/pseuds/alsjeblieft'>alsjeblieft</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>WTFock | Skam (Belgium)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drabble, M/M, Open Ending, Sexual Tension, Teasing, for the anniversary of their first meeting, hints to noor x britt, ingelwens, mentions of death bc sander is a siren and it kinda comes with the territory, siren!au, siren!sander</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 17:35:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,449</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27031636</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/alsjeblieft/pseuds/alsjeblieft</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>the cabin trip but with a twist</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>75</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>love me while your wrists are bound</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>insp from alinok's <a href="https://sbedem.tumblr.com/post/633173360313008128/alinok-sirensander-aesthetic-i-have-seafoam">post</a> on tumblr (I love it so much) and many many listens of kailee morgue's song siren</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Robbe is drowning. </p>
<p>Darkness surrounds him, a piercing chill that seeps into his bones, turns his veins to ice. He's holding his breath, slowly sinking down into murky depths of cold green. </p>
<p>Robbe is not afraid of the water, never has been. He's spent every summer since he was a kid out in the ocean paddling on a surfboard or diving beneath the waves. But here, sinking deeper, he feels fear beginning to set in, the pressure on his chest becoming too much. </p>
<p>Then, right as Robbe is ready to open his mouth and drag icy water into his lungs, a hand closes around his wrist. Suddenly, the pressure goes away and despite still being submerged, Robbe can breathe again. </p>
<p>The waters are dark and muddled in front of him but he can make out a figure in the currents, sea-green eyes, white hair and a tail with scales like stained glass. </p>
<p>Part of Robbe wants to pull away, struggle up to the surface now that his limbs no longer feel frozen, but when that hand strokes his cheek, skin warm, touch so gentle, Robbe feels like he could stay forever. </p>
<p><em>come find me, angel.</em> </p>
<p>Fingers press against the pendant resting between his collarbones and there are lips mouthing at the juncture of his neck. For a second, it feels like teeth as sharp as serrated steel graze his skin and it shocks Robbe how calm he remains. It's almost like he wants it, wants those teeth to bear down on him.</p>
<p><em>I'm right here</em>, he finds himself answering. Without thinking, he reaches up and his hands discover a shoulder, a neck, the soft curve of an ear, the place where short white hair meets nape, as if to say <em>you can have me</em>. The figure in front of him freezes, pulls back warily. </p>
<p>Gentle hands cup his cheeks, examining his cheekbones with a graze of thumbs, and Robbe reaches out, tries to arch into it, but the currents start tugging him back up to the surface. </p>
<p>Robbe wants to protest. Now that those hands no longer are on him, he desperately longs for them.</p>
<p>He longs for that voice in his ear again. Robbe doesn't quite know how to describe it. Not in any way that does it justice. It sounds like what dragging your fingertip over a smooth sea shell feels like, or what the rippling tendrils of jellyfish look like, mezmerising but lethal. It sounds like waves lapping against the shore, like the gentle sway of seagrass and the roaring storms at sea. </p>
<p>It's addictive and Robbe wants it back. </p>
<p>Just before he breaks the surface, he wakes with a jolt, breathing jaggedly and tasting seawater on his lips. </p>
<p>Noor shifts beside him, bunk bed so small her whole body presses against Robbe's side and all he wants to do is run. Run back to the ocean. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>///</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The October nights in Antwerp are freezing.  </p>
<p>They had spent the whole day fucking about in the dunes, playing paintball until everyone had at least one dime-sized bruise on their bodies. And now, with the sky darkening and stars revealing themselves, Robbe feels the cold begin to settle in. </p>
<p>The bonfire only helps when he puts his hands close to the base of the flames. His clothes are damp and the sand beneath him leaks the chill all over him. </p>
<p>The sea is right next to them, waves lapping lazily against the shore and it pulls at hazy images inside Robbe's head. He ignores them. </p>
<p>Some of the girls had gone back to the cabin, Noor and Britt to the toilets, Zoë, Jana and Amber to the kitchen for more drinks and snacks. Luca remains sitting with them, nudging at Aaron to make her more s'mores. Robbe is bouncing his knee, waiting for Noor to return. He still tenses up every time her hands start wandering but at least she's warm. Jens beside him is of no use, flopped out on a layer of blankets, cheeks flushed from the multiple bottles of cheap beer he's downed. </p>
<p>Robbe misses when they were kids, when it was just the two of them, when it was fully acceptable for Robbe to huddle close against Jens' side, lay his head in his lap, to tuck his hands beneath his friend's sleeves and curl around his forearms for warmth without anyone throwing the word "gay" at him like it's an insult. </p>
<p>With a sigh, Robbe shifts closer to the fire. He listens to the crackling of the embers and tunes out the boys' voices around him, but there is one voice lingering just at the edge, faint and unreachable at first, but it grows louder when Robbe looks at the sea. </p>
<p>It starts as a low humming, addictive and heavy in his ears, it makes his breath hitch. </p>
<p>"Hey," he nudges Jens. "Do you hear that?" </p>
<p>It's a soft crooning now, dark, captivating, and stirring up heat inside Robbe. The quiet waves carry the song across the water until it feels like someone is singing it right against his ear and he shudders. It's a voice he could listen to forever. </p>
<p>He starts swatting at the boy next to him. "Seriously, don't you hear that?" While he desperately hopes for someone to tell him he's not losing his mind, something in Robbe wishes no one else can hear it, wants that voice to sing only for him, only call for him. </p>
<p>"What the fuck are you talking about?" </p>
<p>The singing stops. Without it, Robbe feels even colder than before and he frowns. "Never mind." </p>
<p>Aaron ends up being the one to take his mind off it, groaning about how many times he got hit during their paintball session earlier, many of them shot by Amber when he got too close which only serves to make Jens and Moyo laugh at his expense. Robbe cringes a little, knowing how much Aaron genuinely likes Amber, but keeps quiet, poking at the embers with a stick. </p>
<p>Until a speck of white flashes in the corner of his eye. Robbe's head jerks towards it, body frozen and pulse in his throat as he searches over the water for another glimpse, anything. The waves roll into tiny whitecaps but Robbe catches something else cresting over them, breaking the ripples. It looks a lot like a tail. </p>
<p>It takes a few nudges of Robbe's arm and eventually a tap to his cheek for Jens to finally draw his attention. </p>
<p>"Robbe," the boy asks, eyes concerned. "are you okay? I think you stopped breathing for a second." </p>
<p>"Yeah I just—I'm fine, I just thought I saw something, that's all." </p>
<p>"That's <em>all</em>? Dude, we're a group of inebriated teenagers staying in a cabin out in the middle of nowhere. This is how every horror movie starts so don't say shit like that." It takes three tries for Jens to say the word inebriated and Robbe wonders if he himself just might be that drunk that he's started to hallucinate. </p>
<p>He blows out a breath and laughs at himself. "Yeah, sorry. It was nothing." He rubs at his face but spares another glance at the sea. </p>
<p>The girls all come back from the house, Jana lugging a large wireless speaker, Zoë and Amber carrying a crate stocked with more drinks and snacks between them, and then Noor behind them, hands full, piggybacking a tipsy Britt. </p>
<p>The loud music Moyo hooks up to the speakers drowns out any of Robbe's thoughts, but cannot drown out the lingering memory of that voice humming.</p>
<p>After dropping Britt to the pile of blankets on the sand, Noor plants herself between Robbe's legs, presses back against his chest. The feeling of her hands rubbing the outsides of his thighs makes him want to curl in on himself but right now, her warmth is so comforting that he wraps his arms around her anyway. </p>
<p>"Shots!" Moyo yells, untwisting the cap of a tequila bottle and raising it. Everyone else cheers and Robbe tries to crack a smile, but he gives up in the end and buries his face in Noor's jacket. </p>
<p>It's gonna be a long night. </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Time eventually passes the stroke of midnight, and then it's one and then two in the morning.</p>
<p>Zoë disappears first to a call from Senne, then Moyo who takes it upon himself to lug a passed out Aaron back to the cabin. Shortly after, Britt grabs at Noor who was passing by to get another bag of pretzels, and holds onto her. Noor laughs, and speaks gently to her drunken friend, smoothing a hand over her hair. She then tells Robbe she's going to put Britt to bed with a kiss to his cheek. It's a nice kiss, full of sweetness, but when she moves over to tug Britt off the beach, the way she cradles her friend's face and holds her waist and speaks into her ear is infinitely more tender. Robbe begins to think he's not the only one hiding from the truth.</p>
<p>Jens tries to sneak off as well but Robbe snatches his jacket sleeve and tugs him back with a click of his tongue. </p>
<p>He lifts his chin at the remaining girls; Luca, Jana and Amber. "We'll help you pack everything up, come on." </p>
<p>Jens groans in protest but starts sluggishly rolling up blankets. </p>
<p>"I'll put out the fire." Robbe takes a couple of empty bottles with him to where the beach meets ocean and crouches down to fill them with seawater.</p>
<p>He's filled two of them when the humming starts again. He can't discern any words in the song but somehow, the meaning still carves itself into his mind.</p>
<p>
  <em> Join me. Follow me into the water. Find me. </em>
</p>
<p>It tugs at his core, makes him want to get swallowed up by the depths like the sea swallows the starry sky. The voice sings louder and Robbe sees those same sea-green eyes, feels that touch to his cheekbone and it's like a haze. Desire wells up inside him, sudden and feverish. He wants more.  </p>
<p>"Robbe!" A hand grips harshly at his wrist and it's all wrong. It's the opposite of the gentle caresses and the graze of sharp teeth he is craving. He whines in his throat. "<em>Robbe</em>! What the hell are you doing?" </p>
<p>"Huh?" Robbe blinks drowsily back into himself until he feels a piercing cold envelop his lower legs. He looks down and draws in a sharp breath when he realises that he has waded out calf-deep into the water. The freezing October sea. </p>
<p>Jens tugs at his wrist again, pulling him back onto dry land. </p>
<p>"It's freezing out there! It's almost winter, you fucking idiot." Jens wraps him in a blanket and Robbe hadn't even noticed he'd started shivering. "Are you out of your mind?" Jens asks him, tone scolding and...fuck. Maybe he is. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>///</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Robbe can't sleep. </p>
<p>Once safely back in the cabin, Jens had forced him into the spare bedroom—the one saved for any wandering couples during the weekend—and wrapped more blankets around his shoulders while Amber made him a cup of steaming tea to fend off the cold.</p>
<p>"You really can't hold your fucking liquor," Jens had mumbled at him, still half-drunk himself. "Wading out into the ocean in the middle of October, ridiculous." </p>
<p>Pushing a dry pair of pyjama trousers at him, Jens and the girls had left him there to get warmed up. </p>
<p>And there Robbe has remained, swathed in blankets and tea forgotten. It's not long after the cabin has gone completely dark, everyone asleep, that Robbe fishes out his phone from his jacket pocket. </p>
<p>He shakes his head at himself and what he types into the search engine. </p>
<p>
  <strong>Singing mermaids. </strong>
</p>
<p>Jens' voice rings in his head. <em>Ridiculous</em>. Yeah, that's an understatement. </p>
<p>Internet runs slower out here, but results trickle in on his screen and Robbe finds a number of results correcting his search. </p>
<p>He reads that mermaids don't really sing. But sirens do. </p>
<p>He clicks on the tab. <strong>SIRENS</strong>. </p>
<p>Creatures of the sea. Some bewinged, some with bodies half-human and half-bird, others with tails of fish. Webbed fingers, talons at their tips, eyes that glow. By sweet, irrisistable song, they lure humans into the depths and lull them to sleep only to devour them. </p>
<p>Robbe shudders and wraps the blankets tighter around him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>//</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He really shouldn't be surprised when he dreams of the sea again. </p>
<p>There is a section of his sleep-muddled brain that conjures up monsters here in the depths, flashes from what he read on the wikipedia page. Dark shadows circling him, sharp-edged teeth snapping, clawed fingers reaching out to hunt, to kill, jagged tails longer than Robbe himself grazing his skin. He struggles against them, forces his eyes shut when they glare at him, menacing and haunting. </p>
<p>Suddenly, a deep chuckle sounds through the echoing silence of the ocean floor. </p>
<p>
  <em> You've read too many stories, angel.  </em>
</p>
<p>The shadows disappear, the cold vanishes all at once until all Robbe sees is those sea-green eyes, amused and gentle on his. </p>
<p><em> So you're </em> not <em> going to kill me then? </em>Robbe isn't opening his mouth, not producing any sounds, but somehow he is speaking.</p>
<p>His vision is too hazy, but Robbe glimpses a shrug of broad shoulders. <em>I thought about it. I was going to.</em> </p>
<p>
  <em> But? </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> I changed my mind. </em>
</p>
<p>Heart in his throat, Robbe shudders. <em>What changed it?</em></p>
<p><em>You</em>. The word in itself is simple, but its meaning is far from it. It echoes in Robbe's head, and it weighs down on his skin like a touch. <em>I'm not going to hurt you.</em> </p>
<p>
  <em> You could be lying. Isn't that what you do?  </em>
</p>
<p>A hum.<em> Lie, manipulate, deceive, seduce. We do a lot of things.  </em></p>
<p>We. Sirens.</p>
<p><em> So what </em> do <em> you want with me? If you're not going to kill me.  </em></p>
<p>The voice draws nearer and it makes the water ripple around Robbe. <em>Maybe i'm tired of the same old same old. Maybe I want something more.</em> </p>
<p>Sighing but not expelling any breath, Robbe reaches out to touch but whatever his fingers catch on doesn't feel quite the same as skin. It's like he's touching rushing water, heavy currents, submerged glass. And he realises that this isn't actually real; it's just a dream. <em>Wish I could touch you. </em></p>
<p>
  <em> You can.  </em>
</p>
<p><em>Can't</em>. Robbe is whining now and normally, he would be mortified, but he <em>aches</em>.</p>
<p>
  <em> Come find me.  </em>
</p>
<p>Robbe wakes up on a jagged inhale, fingers pruned like raisins.</p>
<p>He groans and rubs his face in frustration. Is he really going to let himself be tricked into this? Will he willingly wade out into the waves and allow himself to be lured into deep waters? Will he take the blindfold off but still keep his eyes closed? </p>
<p>Then he thinks about having to go back to his bunk bed, lay down beside Noor, live a goddamn lie every day of his life and he thinks yeah. He just might. </p>
<p>What's he got to lose?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>///</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Fuck it</em>, Robbe thinks. </p>
<p>He shucks off the blankets and grimaces as he shoves his feet into still damp shoes. </p>
<p>Shrugging his jacket back on, he steals a glance towards the closed door of the boys' room and hopes that no one is awake to hear him slip out. </p>
<p>Robbe wishes there was certainty in his steps, any form of conviction that he is doing the right thing and not walking straight towards his unevitable demise. But Robbe shivers and shakes in his worn sneakers and thin jacket, desperately missing the swaddle of blankets Jens had provided him with. </p>
<p>He stops at the shore. The sea laps calmly at the sand and it's a stark contrast to the raging waves thundering through Robbe's ears. </p>
<p>No going back now.</p>
<p>Stepping onto the floating dock, the wood creaks beneath his feet, the untied laces of his shoes occasionally catching on splintered groves in the planks. </p>
<p>Briefly, Robbe wonders if he might regret this. What if it all does turn out to be just a dream? What if he ends up empty-handed? </p>
<p>His mind fragments, breaking off into pieces. One part hoping Jens found out he was gone and is bounding over the dunes to come pull him back again, another part wishing that this all really is just a dream and that none of it is real. But the loudest, most clamouring part of him thinks back to hovering over the ocean floor, strong arms enveloping him, mouth against his neck and smooth voice speaking low into his ear. </p>
<p>Robbe longs for it so bad his knees give out under him and he sits heavily down near the edge of the dock. </p>
<p>He touches his fingertips to the water, as if the ripples they cause transform into a message, his own personal letter swept away into the undertow. </p>
<p>I came. I'm here. I want this. </p>
<p>As if by magic, something swipes just below the surface, glinting dark in Robbe's line of sight before disappearing. </p>
<p>Fevered, Robbe clambers his way to the very edge for another glimpse. Heart thumping against his ribcage, he searches the water, the whole world gone quiet as he waits. </p>
<p>Nothing happens for what feels like eternity. until something heavy knocks into the side of the dock, throwing Robbe off his balance. </p>
<p>He topples in. </p>
<p>When he strikes the water, it's like diving into shattered glass. Robbe's body goes numb and he's colder than he's ever been before. </p>
<p>He sinks fast, limbs aching. It feels like his veins have shrunk 3 times their original size and he wants to gasp for breath. He needs the drag of air in his lungs but before he can even try to open his mouth, a palm presses on his chest. </p>
<p>The pressure bleeds from him, cold seeping from his bones as the touch ignites a unique sort of heat inside him. Robbe melts at the relief until he's just floating near the bottom of the sea, hair swaying, loose-fitting clothes hovering around him. It's another kind of freedom, Robbe thinks, being underwater, submerged in an echoing silence, the feeling of someone else's touch so soothing. </p>
<p>He doesn't need to see in order to know who it is, but he still opens his eyes, lids flickering to adjust. </p>
<p>He should've known he wouldn't be able to make anything out in the dark waters and to no surprise, his world blurs in front of him. Robbe makes a noise of protest anyways, reaching out blindly and falters when his fingers graze skin. </p>
<p>A voice laughs deep in his ear, smooth. <em>Come</em>. </p>
<p>Hands touch his sides, guiding him back to the surface, where he gulps in air like he hasn't breathed in years.</p>
<p>Robbe had caught glimpses in his dreams and even googled pictures but nothing compares to seeing a siren live and inches away from him. Tiny air bubbles playing around familiar sea-green eyes, hair as white as the moon glistening like pale silk, silver bracelets circling the curve of a lean and muscular upper arm, the glint of blue-black scales below the surface. </p>
<p>A sound escapes Robbe's throat. The siren grins crookedly.</p>
<p>"You found me." </p>
<p>It is different hearing that voice here, above water. It no longer echoes inside his head, but it still sends shivers up Robbe's spine. </p>
<p>The murkiness of his dreams had kept the mysterious figure as just that—mysterious and all blurred outlines. But here, above the surface and bathed in the faded light from the lampposts lining the shore, it's all out in the open for Robbe to see. "I—are you even real?" </p>
<p>"Do I feel real to you?" The siren draws closer and Robbe doesn't mean to back away, but just the slight graze against his hips makes him falter. He can't keep peddling water, his limbs don't obey him anymore. He lets the current carry him, grabs hold of the dock's ladder and backs himself up against it. </p>
<p>"I'm not...I think..." Robbe might as well have his lungs filled with water for how many words he manages to force out. He can't take his eyes off the siren before him; sharp white teeth digging into a lower lip a shade as rare as red sea glass, eyes gleaming dangerously, tilted chin, weight effortlessly held up by that massive tail.</p>
<p>"What? What are you thinking?" </p>
<p>"Fuck, I don't know. That either I'm still dreaming, or that I drank a lot more than I thought I did." </p>
<p>"You wished you could touch me. I'm right here." </p>
<p>Robbe feels himself tremble, breath shaky and he clings to the ladder.</p>
<p>"You're shivering," the siren notices, sounding worried now, hands held out tentatively, seemingly uncharacteristic of a creature who could kill him with a snap of teeth. Robbe looks at the hands in wonder, at the silver rings on both hands, thin and pearly translucent webbing between each finger, the swirling tattoos that are so deeply imprinted into glistening skin, they could be veins. </p>
<p>"Yeah, no shit," Robbe says, quiet and with a surprised chuckle. "It's practically winter. For someone claiming they don't want to kill me, you're kinda pushing it." </p>
<p>"I can warm you up." It is said casually, but Robbe can hear the implication behind it, and if Robbe had more control over his face right now, he'd roll his eyes. But he can also feel the heat radiating off the body in front of him, moving closer until Robbe stops the advance with fingertips touching a smooth chest. Robbe stifles a sharp inhale at how real it does feel. </p>
<p>"If you tell me your name first."</p>
<p>The siren scoffs and it shocks Robbe how human it sounds. "I'm offering to help you and you're trying to negotiate?" </p>
<p>"Well, I'd ask you to buy me a drink first, but that's kinda out of the question here, don't you think?" </p>
<p>A look is levelled at Robbe, along with narrowed eyes and lips parting in something like hesitance, amusement, <em>excitement</em>. </p>
<p>"What?" Robbe asks after a moment of silence, overwhelmed, and is met by a raised eyebrow and a sly grin. </p>
<p>"Nothing, just...I don't speak to humans that often. You intrigue me." </p>
<p>Hesitating, Robbe narrows his eyes. "Is that a compliment?" </p>
<p>"It can be."</p>
<p>Robbe watches the siren's mouth, the quick swipe of a tongue over inviting lips, and he taps his fingers rapidly, almost stressed, where they still lie right above where Robbe imagines the heart would be. "Name," he says, almost as a reminder to himself. </p>
<p>The smirk widens. "Sander." </p>
<p>Robbe mouths it out, pretends he doesn't see the siren's heavy gaze. "Fine," he gives in. "Come warm me up then."</p>
<p>Instead of moving closer right away, Sander reaches up, water dripping from his skin, and brushes Robbe's hair back so it isn't plastered to his forehead anymore. The touch trails down behind his ear and skims his jawline. It’s so soft, reverent almost, and warmth rises in Robbe already. </p>
<p>“There it is,” Sander muses, fingertips moving up to feel across his cheekbones, now gone pink. “That flush. Captivating.” </p>
<p>“<em>You’re</em> calling <em>me</em> captivating?” Robbe scoffs, tone incredulous. </p>
<p>“Am I not allowed to?” </p>
<p>A muscle at the corner of Robbe’s mouth twitches. “I guess.” He lets Sander explore, cupping his face with thumbs pressing into his dimples, holding the sides of his neck, tangling in the gold chain of his necklace, a gentle contrast against Sander’s silver. He lets it wash over him, lets it get him all overwhelmed until he has to ask, “why me?” </p>
<p>“You looked the tastiest.” Sander grins against the hollow of his throat, and Robbe has to push him back with an exasperated sound. </p>
<p>“I’m serious. You said you changed your mind. Why?” </p>
<p>“I saw you and I wanted you.” He says it simply with a shrug of his shoulder, but Robbe can tell there’s something else lurking beneath the surface. He’s not lying but he’s not telling the whole truth either. </p>
<p>“Is that it?” Robbe asks, lowering his chin. </p>
<p>Sander sighs, but it’s a frustrated noise, like he’s struggling to find the right words. For a seocond, it feels like he’s going to pull away so Robbe wraps his hand around the one cupping his cheek and holds it against his skin. He leans into it, even presses a swift kiss into the fleshy part of his palm. It’s supposed to be encouraging but Sander gives a full-bodied shiver and goosebumps rise on his skin. </p>
<p>Huh. Robbe didn’t know sirens could get goosebumps. </p>
<p>“I’ve been—” Sander starts, breathy and hestitant like he's not sure he should speak. “I’ve been out here watching since the first night you all came here. Your friends fascinate me, they’re so…”</p>
<p>“Stupid?” Robbe supplies, with a bitter quirk of his mouth, but Sander shakes his head. </p>
<p>“Free.” Sander’s stare is piercing. There is a tiny frown right between his eyebrows and Robbe never thought a creature who has the whole oceans to roam could look so <em>trapped</em>. Almost on instinct, he reaches up and smoothes his fingers comfortingly over one eyebrow and Sander softens under it. He continues, “and then I saw you, and you looked so lonely. You looked how I feel. Especially whenever that girl touched you, you seemed miserable. So I started to wonder what you’d look like if <em>I</em> touched you. Until it was all I thought about.” </p>
<p>He is absentmindedly tracing a thumb over Robbe’s lower lip, and when he looks down Robbe notices that the veins on his eyelids stand out dark and feathered like lightning. </p>
<p>“That’s never happened before," Sander murmurs. "I’ve felt envy, sure—envious of the freedom humans have on land but jealousy? Of another person’s touch? Never. And the fact that you look so fucking pretty in firelight didn’t help either.”</p>
<p>This must be a dream, right? Because people don't speak like that. Or at least, no one has ever spoken to <em>Robbe</em> like that. It's confusing and intense, and it's exquisite, and it's all he's ever wanted. So much that he doesn't quite know how to react, doesn't know what to say or how to control the twitches in his cheek. It must be evident by his body language because Sander holds his jaw, ear cradled between thumb and index finger, and jostles him gently. </p>
<p>"I freaked you out."</p>
<p>It's not a question, but Robbe shakes his head, gripping him closer and frowning. "No, not at all. I just—you're making it very difficult to focus." Sander's hands are all over him, drawing warmth across his skin, running through his hair, cupping the back of his neck, skimming his soaked clothes. </p>
<p>"Do you want me to stop?" He sounds smug now. </p>
<p>"No," Robbe chokes out, like just the idea of it is unbearable. He tugs at Sander until their foreheads meet. "Fuck, could you just—? Please." </p>
<p>Sander just hums, brushing their noses together, clearly enjoying this. "What is it, angel?" </p>
<p>Robbe tries to tug him closer but Sander turns his head to the side, noses into his cheek instead. </p>
<p>“Need you to say it.” </p>
<p>“Warm me up,” Robbe is echoing the siren’s words from before but even heavier with implications, even more suggestive. </p>
<p>Sander’s eyes are blazing on his now, full of heat, and yet he’s still waiting for something. A muscle in his jaw clenches and he raises an eyebrow. It’s so small a movement, barely noticable but this up close, Robbe sees it all. </p>
<p>Robbe licks his lips, drags in a shaky breath. “Kiss me. Please.” He tacks on for good measure.</p>
<p>Sader inhales, twisting his forehead against Robbe’s. He chuckles. “I knew it.” </p>
<p>“Knew what?” </p>
<p>“That you’d sound so lovely begging for me.” </p>
<p>An aborted noise escapes Robbe’s lips but Sander is there, smothering it with his own, pushing the lengths of their torsos together.</p>
<p>There is so much heat and repressed longing packed into their kiss that Robbe goes weak with it. He melts, the ladder digging into his spine. Trying to find purchase, his hands slip and slide off wet skin. They roam Sander's lower back where skin meets scales as smooth as the inside of a shell, and Sander shudders into him.</p>
<p>Robbe has to stop and take a breath, their cheeks pressed hotly together. "You're so beautiful," he pants, the words exhaled into Sander's hairline just above his slightly pointed ears. He raises a hand to drag light fingertips against Sander's swollen lips and he feels them tremble. The siren looks disbelievingly at him. He also looks very dishevelled, hair sticking up every which way. </p>
<p>But Robbe sees it in his eyes, that doubt at his words. </p>
<p>"You are." Robbe reinforces, putting pressure against Sander's mouth, testing the waters a bit. "So beautiful." And then he pushes, pushes past his lips to graze at the sharpness of his teeth, and Sander lets him. He remembers the feel of them, trailing down his neck in his dream, and it spikes adrenaline in him. Especially now knowing that Sander had had every intention of luring him down into the depths that first night. And yet, something had changed his mind. <em>Robbe</em> had made him change his mind. </p>
<p>Cursing, Robbe ducks to mouth at Sander's neck, fingers lingering between the siren's lips, feeling that sting of those knife-tipped teeth. He sucks the sea water off Sander's skin, listens to his moans that sound a hundred times more enticing than his singing. </p>
<p>Eventually, Sander takes hold of his wrist and pulls it down to rest against his chest. Then he's grabbing his chin and pushing their mouths together again like he can't get enough, can't get close enough. All to the point where Sander grips the sides of the ladder and hauls himself impossibly closer, Robbe clutching his shoulder blades, fingers indenting at the feeling of them pressed together, hips aligning.</p>
<p>One hand on the ladder bar and the other fisted in Robbe's hair, Sander speaks right into him on a half-groan. "Real enough for you yet?" </p>
<p>Something bubbles up inside Robbe; a mix of pure giddiness and desire that sizzles low. "Not quite convinced yet." </p>
<p>Sander snorts and tugs at his hair playfully. Then he kisses him again, slow and measured, soft and lingering. It prompts a sigh of pleasure from Robbe and Sander smiles into his mouth. </p>
<p>"You're so easy," he says, pulling back just an inch. </p>
<p>Frowning, Robbe makes a questioning noise. </p>
<p>"Normally, it would take more to..." Sander trails off but the message is clear. <em>Trick, lure, deceive</em>. "But you...you came willingly." </p>
<p>Robbe thinks back to what he read on that website, that beside singing, sirens could use glamours or even hypnosis to trick their victims. It clears his head a bit. </p>
<p>"How many people have you...?" </p>
<p>"Don't think about that," Sander murmurs, stroking his cheek tenderly. </p>
<p>Robbe chews on his lip. "So this isn't just some game then? You're not going to kill me?" </p>
<p>Sander cups his cheeks, locking their gazes, tail swishing behind him. "I told you. I won't," he tells him firmly. Then, a slow grin passes over his face. "I'll do a lot of things to you, but not that." He dips his head, brushing their lips together, and Robbe is an idiot, he'll admit to that. He'll fully agree with the fact that he is an idiot for completely disregarding that Sander has <em>killed</em> people but as long as he is being touched like this, his brain refuses to work properly. </p>
<p>Sander's thumb hovers over his Adam's apple as he swallows and tilts his chin up. "Yeah? Like what?" </p>
<p>A quirk of the siren's mouth. "Wouldn't you like to know?" </p>
<p>Robbe is about to say yes, he definitely does, but Sander interrupts him with another kiss. </p>
<p>"Your lips are blue," he remarks, almost regretfully, and Robbe knows what he is about to say. </p>
<p>Sliding arms around the other's neck, he protests, "I don't want to go back." </p>
<p>"You have to." Sander cards fingers through Robbe's hair, brushing it back. "Take a hot shower, get warm."</p>
<p>"I'm warm enough here." That's a lie. Robbe can't feel his toes anymore. </p>
<p>Sander knows this and scoffs. "Go home. Back to your friends. They'll wonder where you are."</p>
<p>Robbe tilts his head to see the sun coming up, light just visible on the horizon. He realises just how much he doesn't want this to end, he wants to stay here in Sander's arms. But he can't. And he can't tell Sander that this, tonight, is as much at home as he's ever felt. </p>
<p>He lets his forehead fall to Sander's collarbone, and sweeps a thumb over his other. "Will I see you again?" </p>
<p>Robbe can't see his face like this but he can hear the smile in his voice. "Tomorrow if you want." </p>
<p>Briefly wondering if he might show up in his dreams again, another thought pops into his head. "Man of my dreams," he muses, and shit. That wasn't meant to be said out loud, only meant for himself but Sander laughs unexpectedly against Robbe's neck, breath fanning out over his skin. </p>
<p>"What'd you say?" </p>
<p>"Fuck," Robbe mumbles, and then louder, "you heard me." He tries to shrug in on himself, but Sander is not having it. He tilts his face up with a finger to his chin. </p>
<p>"What did you say?" </p>
<p>Robbe relents, eyes focusing on the way the water laps against the silver circlet around Sander's arm. "You're the man of my dreams. Literally." </p>
<p>Sander just stares at him for a bit, dazed, before he connects their foreheads. "Dammit," he mutters and reaches down, draws Robbe's legs slowly up and around his waist. "I can't let you go now." </p>
<p>The kiss is deeper this time and it tugs at Robbe's core, flooding him with a shameless need making him arch up into Sander and ignore the way the ladder steps dig painfully into his shoulders. He clenches his fists in Sander's pearly white hair, getting some satisfaction in how messy it is. How messy he made it. </p>
<p>Sander pulls back again. "You really should go," he says, looking pained. "You're shaking again." </p>
<p>At first Robbe wants to say that it's not because of the cold but because of how Sander is moving against him and how badly he wants more but then he realises that he can barely move his fingers anymore and his teeth are chattering.</p>
<p>"Shit, ok." </p>
<p>He had felt stiff before but it gets worse when Sander lets him go after one final brush of their lips. It takes a few tries to set his foot right on the ladder steps.</p>
<p>Sander squeezes his waist comfortingly on the way up. "Hurry."</p>
<p>The cold bites even more out of the water and Robbe groans, hugging himself and trying to quicken his steps. Turning back for one more glance, the last thing he sees of Sander is a quick flick of a dark tail diving under the waves.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>///</p>
<p>
  <strong>BONUS: </strong>
</p>
<p>"Good morning!" </p>
<p>Zoë's voice is a deal too chipper to hear on three hours of sleep, Robbe decides. </p>
<p>"You missed breakfast," she greets him as he emerges from the room dubbed the couple's bedroom, eyes still half-closed and not one hair in place. Her tone is a little worried but Robbe's too tired to discern anything right now. "There's not much left," she tells him, holding a cup of steaming coffee. "Aaron and Jens went to the store to get more food, but there should be some cereal or something left." </p>
<p>Jana sweeps by, layered in a thick knitted sweater and carrying empty dishes. "The milk's all out though." </p>
<p>"Oh, shit," Zoë tugs the corner of her mouth down. </p>
<p>Robbe rubs at his eyes. "Dry cereal it is, then." He walks into the dining room where the only people left are Moyo and Luca who are deep in discussion, one Robbe can't be bothered with tuning in to. Britt is there as well, clearly sporting a nasty hangover, slumped against the table, head resting in her arms. </p>
<p>Moyo looks up when Robbe snatches a box of Choco Crunch and exclaims, "hey man, what is this I hear about you taking a little nightly dip?" </p>
<p>Robbe starts, a handful of cereal frozen halfway to his mouth. "What?" </p>
<p>"Luca told me you tried to wade out into the ocean last night." </p>
<p>"Oh, right." Out of nowhere, Robbe feels goosebumps start to rise on his arms as he thinks of last night. He feels a flush begin to settle over his cheeks so he shrugs it off. "I must've been really drunk." </p>
<p>"Yeah no shit," Moyo laughs. </p>
<p>He and Luca continue their conversation just as Noor enters the room, trailing a hand across Robbe's back as she passes. She sets a glass of something bubbling—probably a painkiller—next to Britt who groans and rears up to plant her head on Noor's shoulder. Noor seems to react almost on instinct, smiling gently and pressing a lingering kiss to the girl's hairline, but then she suddenly flicks her gaze up to Robbe's, lips parted and looking guilty. </p>
<p>Not exactly surprised, Robbe just gives her a small knowing smile and mouths <em>it's okay</em>. Noor still looks torn so Robbe tilts his chin at her phone while picking up his own. He sends her a text. </p>
<p>
  <em> Don't worry. We can talk later.  </em>
</p>
<p>She opens her mouth as if to say something but just then, heavy footsteps sound on the porch.</p>
<p>"Delivery!" It's Jens, lugging in grocery bags. Robbe can't see anything from the dining room because there's a wall inbetween but he can hear the boy's grunt as he sets the bags down in the kitchen. "I bring sustenance. And Aaron brought a stray." </p>
<p>"He's not a stray," Robbe hears the other boy protest, as well as another, third, set of footsteps coming up the porch. "He's got one of the cabins up the street. Everyone, this is Sander." </p>
<p>Robbe freezes and fuck if his heart doesn't stop in his chest. There's no fucking way. </p>
<p>In a second, he's springing out of his chair and rounding the doorway, not quite registering that he's still dressed in his pyjamas, his hair is a mess, and his hand remains buried inside a box of cereal. </p>
<p>Aaron spots him first, nods his way and gestures to the boy standing next to him. A boy Robbe knows all too well. </p>
<p>"Ah hey, Robbe," Aaron is saying. "This is Sander, we met him at the supermarket." </p>
<p>And then <em>Sander</em> is looking at him with those exact same sea-green eyes, hair almost glowing white, a discreet smile tugging at his lips. </p>
<p>"Hi, Robbe," he says, in his intoxicating voice that not many hours ago was murmuring <em>angel</em> into his ear. </p>
<p>Short-circuting, Robbe blurts with a mumble, "where's your tail?"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>someone please tell me why this is just a drabble and yet it took me almost a month to post...<br/>hope you liked it!</p>
<p>tumblr&gt; sbedem</p></blockquote></div></div>
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